TO SAY that lawsuits alleging sexual abuse by clergymen have devastated the Catholic Church seems an understatement. In the US alone, the Church has spent anywhere from $850 million to more than $1 billion on settlements and jury-awarded damages, according to attorneys and victim-support groups. And the price the Church has paid in broken trust is incalculable.

Given all that’s at stake, Church officials nationwide might argue that they couldn’t simply turn the other cheek when confronted with litigation. Yet Sister Mary Ann Walsh of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB), the most powerful canonical body in the American Catholic hierarchy, which makes recommendations to the dioceses on pastoral practices, claims the Church is not just protecting itself at all costs. " Truth, " she says, " is paramount for us. " According to Walsh, the NCCB doesn’t keep track of clergy-sexual-abuse lawsuits; it doesn’t document the losses incurred, or the tactics adopted. Yet she maintains that truth serves as the Church’s guiding principle. " We want to make sure that people’s rights are protected, " she adds, " that those who are accused are presumed innocent until proven guilty. "

It’s " patently false " to suggest that this legal principle, or the Church’s legal strategy as a whole, is inconsistent with Catholicism, Walsh says. She admits that the Church has sued victims before; it has even hired detectives to sift through people’s pasts. But she calls such methods " a rarity. " Explains Walsh, " It’s more common for the Church to come to an understanding about what happened before charging into court.... The Church has shown it is possible to maintain its religious values " while handling these cases.

One justification for a vigorous defense strategy in these cases is that the charges could fall apart. " We have seen cases of false accusations, " Walsh notes. In 1993, the NCCB stood firmly behind the late Joseph Cardinal Bernardin of the Chicago archdiocese after he’d been named in a lawsuit accusing him of sexual abuse. It turned out the plaintiff, Steven Cook, had " recovered " his memories of the supposed molestation under hypnosis by an unlicensed therapist. Within three months, Cook dropped his lawsuit, saying his memory wasn’t reliable — thus ending the highest-profile case in recent memory of a wrongful accusation against the Church.

Even if the Church fights these suits, Walsh says, it aims to place victims first. " Our first concern is the victim, " she says. In 1992, the NCCB drafted a national action plan — " Restoring Trust: The Response to Sexual Abuse " — outlining five principles for investigating abuse allegations and removing offenders from the clergy. The policy directs each diocese to " respond promptly " to abuse charges, to cooperate with civil and criminal investigations, and to " communicate sincere commitment to spiritual and emotional well-being " of victims. The Catholic conference has also asked bishops to compensate victims when harm can be established. Says Walsh, " These are ways the Church puts victims first. Everything else is secondary. "

In Boston, though, Geoghan’s adult accusers aren’t likely to feel they’re a priority. McSorley, now a 27-year-old Hyde Park resident, is still reeling from the blow that Cardinal Law dealt him and the other 24 plaintiffs in the June 19 response to their complaints. At first, he felt vindicated by Law’s confession about the 1984 letter. But anger soon took hold when the cardinal denied " personal knowledge " of the complaints detailed in the letter. Says McSorley, " It’s hurtful. He knew about the abuse. He should have done something immediately. "

Of course, nothing could have prepared McSorley for the cardinal’s attempt to shift responsibility away from himself and toward the victims. " You can’t blame something like that on a 12-year-old kid, " McSorley says. " I don’t understand that at all. I’d expect a cardinal to protect the children, not blame them.... Where is the sympathy for the victims? "

For all of his talk of " learning curves, " it seems, Law has reinforced his image as what attorney Anderson calls " a fugitive of the truth. " The cardinal earned that reputation in 1992, when the story of convicted pedophile James Porter blew wide open. The former Massachusetts priest was charged with assaulting 28 children in three Bristol County parishes; he pled guilty and was sentenced to 18 to 20 years in prison. Scrutiny of the Church grew so intense during that period that Law infamously blasted reporters for focusing on what he termed " the faults of the few " : " We deplore that.... By all means we call down God’s power on the media ... "

Now, nearly a decade later, it looks as if Law is still pointing fingers. But this time, he’s not blaming the messenger. Instead, he’s finding fault with Geoghan’s alleged victims. " I’m very disappointed by Law, " admits SNAP’s Clohessy. " Like with the Porter cases, the cardinal is blaming and denying. " (Interestingly, the Diocese of Fall River did not fight the 99 Porter victims who sought legal counsel. Rather, it reportedly offered them a total of $8 million — the amount has never been disclosed — before they filed complaints.)

Clohessy — and many local observers — hold out hope that the Boston archdiocese will change its litigious ways. The Church should step up to the plate, they say; it should address the Geoghan cases extrajudicially — without the posturing, without the fight. Says Boston attorney Jeffrey Newman, " If I were Law, I would be telling my lawyer to get rid of these cases. He should settle them. He has the power to do so. " (Newman is reportedly negotiating a settlement with the Boston archdiocese for seven of the victims of convicted child molester Christopher Reardon.)

Geoghan’s upcoming criminal trial increases the chances of settling the civil cases. Geoghan, now 65 and living in Scituate, has pleaded not guilty to criminal charges of child rape and child assault in both Suffolk and Middlesex Counties; he is slated to face his first criminal trial September 4 in Suffolk Superior Court. If Geoghan winds up on the witness stand, the criminal proceedings could uncover evidence that would bolster the 84 civil lawsuits currently pending against him and Church superiors. A conviction would surely strengthen the civil suits. As Economus predicts, " The Church will be forced to settle these civil cases. "

If history offers any indication, though, the archdiocese could just as easily keep up the fight. But the high-profile lawsuits against Law make it difficult to predict what the Boston archdiocese will do. Law, after all, is the highest-ranking Church official to be named in a clergy-sex-abuse case. There are only eight cardinals in the United States, and he’s the only one to have been accused of committing such negligence while acting as cardinal. Ultimately, the Church’s track record doesn’t bode well. As McSorley puts it: " After watching the way the Church has handled my case, I’m not at all convinced that what happened to me won’t happen again. "